In My Arms
by Salem Navy
Summary: "She wasn't good enough and those scars on her hands were all the proof that anyone needed. Jane Rizzoli was damaged goods and Maura Isles, unquestionably, was not." Jane and Maura argue. Established Rizzles. One-shot.


**Title: In My Arms**

**Author: Salem Navy**

**Pairing: Rizzles forevaaaa**

**Rating: Strong T**

_**So this kinda came to me while listening to In My Arms by Plumb. In order to get the full crying feel crushing aftermath, listen to that while reading. But it's basically pointless and I just had to get it out. Leave a review if you feel so obliged! **_

_**XOXO**_

* * *

Jane sat on the edge of their bed, rubbing the scars on her hands as her girlfriend continued to scream at her. _I just don't understand what I did wrong!_ Maura's words kept echoing in her head. Normally, the detective would be fighting back. Yelling. Flailing her Italian hands around. Perhaps she would've even thrown something by now. She just… she couldn't get past this. It had been haunting her since Hoyt had held that scalpel against her throat for the final time.

She wasn't good enough and those scars on her hands were all the proof that anyone needed. Jane Rizzoli was damaged goods and Maura Isles, unquestionably, was not.

Everything about Maura shimmered. Jane could still remember the first time she'd actually been alone with the doctor in the morgue. Being stuck down in the basement with the 'Queen of the Dead' was always eye-opening. This high class woman in an Alexander McQueen dress standing there in her 4 inch Prada's while she poked around in some guy's chest cavity was certainly a sight to behold. The brunette had been fascinated from the beginning. For once, she didn't feel quite so guarded. She didn't touch her scars as much. She didn't try to hide them. She even let Maura run her fingers over them once in a while. Because something about Maura Isles was just… different. _Better_.

"Are you even listening to me?" The honey-blonde continued to yell, even though they both knew she hated it. Maura hated raising her voice, getting angry; losing control over her emotions. It wasn't how she had been raised and therefore, it wasn't exactly something she was used to. But she couldn't control her emotions or feelings when it came to Jane. She'd never been able to. Not even that first day when they were alone down in autopsy and the detective had sat there, rubbing at her hands as Maura collected dirt samples from under the victim's fingernails. It had only taken the M.E. a few moments to remove her gloves and wash up before she picked up one of Jane's hands, gently pressing her fingertips against the pressure point in the web of the taller woman's hand. "_There's something else for you to think about," _she'd assured with a smile, already preparing to slip on another pair of gloves and finish collecting evidence.

Instead of answering Maura's question, Jane simply stood up and headed for the bedroom door. She didn't want to do this right now. She needed a minute to think without her girlfriend screaming in her ear about how ridiculous she was acting. Yeah, she knew that she was being a little over-sensitive about the whole thing, but she was allowed to do that once in a while. If she wanted to pout and pitch hissy fits about little shit that Maura found insignificant then she would.

"Dammit Jane, don't walk away from me!"

And once Maura grabbed onto her hand, Jane lost it.

"Don't you dare!" The brunette had gone from composed to seething in a matter of seconds, rage clearly burning in her eyes. "You didn't want me there. I get it! So don't touch me. If I'm so uncivilized that you can't even introduce me to your pretentious BCU friends then what's the point of being with me?"

"Is that what this is about? Because I had dinner with some friends from college? I hadn't seen them since a year after we graduated. I didn't think you'd want to sit there while we talked about the parties we had once gone to or the men we had slept with!"

"Just because you three happened to go to a few XYZ frat parties and slut it up doesn't make you better than me!"

"It's called an ABC party, Jane."

"Seriously, that's what you got from that statement? You're fucking ridiculous. It doesn't matter if it was an LMNOP party, Maura! The point is… god, just… whatever."

"What is the point? I don't even understand why we're arguing! You wouldn't even talk to me last night. You have ignored me all day." The honey-blonde had tears forming in her eyes. Fighting with Jane was always exhausting. The last time had resulted in the detective cleaning up all the broken dishes while Maura sobbed in the bathtub.

"THE POINT IS THAT YOU DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING INVITE ME!" Jane's words came out a little louder than intended, startling Jo Friday and causing the little dog to let out a series of barks from the living room.

Tears flowed freely from Maura's eyes now, her voice immediately cracking, "Why couldn't… you should've just told me that."

Jane hated when Maura did that. How was she supposed to continue yelling when the M.E. stood in front of her, choking back sobs as she averted her eyes, looking anywhere but at Jane? But god, she wanted to. She wanted to scream at Maura, make her realize that she'd hurt her, and not simply because she didn't ask her to go to the restaurant to eat dinner with her and her self-important friends. It was just the evidence that the lanky blue-collar detective needed to prove that she wasn't good enough for Maura.

"I just didn't think you'd want to go," Maura repeated, her voice small as she wiped at her eyes, dragging mascara across her face.

The answer was simple really… Maura deserved better. Maura deserved everything and Jane Rizzoli wasn't everything. She was a broken shell of a woman with scars on her hands and a serial killer still haunting her dreams. No matter how hard she tried, Jane could never completely shake him. Even knowing that he was buried somewhere, six-feet under the ground with a puncture wound in the chest of his rotting corpse, she still couldn't sleep. She couldn't close her eyes at night without seeing his face sneering at her as he drug the scalpel across Maura's throat.

"It's not because I don't want to be with you. I was only attempting to not have to listen to you make up an excuse in order to extricate yourself from an uncomfortable situation. They're not your kind of people, Jane and I was fairly certain that you wouldn't get along with them."

And with that, the brunette exploded again, continuing her tirade on Maura.

The honey-blonde flinched with every word, listening as Jane finally began to open up about her feelings; how she felt like she wasn't good enough to be with Maura, how she wasn't strong enough or educated enough, how she wasn't sophisticated enough or even beautiful enough to be with someone like Maura.

"I wasn't trying to make you feel like I was ashamed of you or that you aren't enough."

"Look at me Maura! Look at my fucking hands!" Jane yelled one final time, holding her damaged hands up in front of her girlfriend's face. "I'm not enough!"

"Oh Jane," Maura whispered, just as she caught the crying detective in her arms, their bodies sinking back down onto the bed while she placed soft kisses in chocolate brown tresses. Her tears felt hot on her face as she felt tremors rolling up Jane's spine, shakes reverberating through the taller woman's body.

Pushing them both down onto the mattress, Maura's lips never left her lover's face; she kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, before finally letting her lips rest against Jane's warm mouth. It was only moments before she felt the brunette open up to her.

Jane's legs fell open slowly as Maura slid between them, her lips parting in a silent plea for Maura to enter. She let the M.E.'s tongue caress her own before feeling Maura slip her hand between her thighs, pressing delicately against her underwear.

"You're enough, Jane. You always have been."


End file.
